


let us do what lovers do

by reas_of_sunshine



Series: the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury // kiss prompts [1]
Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Kissing, Late at Night, Poetic, Pre-Canon, Sneaking Around, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reas_of_sunshine/pseuds/reas_of_sunshine
Summary: Eclipsa Butterfly has never once, and never will, play by the rules.





	let us do what lovers do

**Author's Note:**

> wow holy shit I've been dead and this garbage is what I got to show for it???
> 
> anyway, prompt for this drabble: goodbye kiss.

He’s cheeky and sweet and witty— and she doesn’t deserve him. His name is a garbled mess of a dozen monster dialects, impossible for the simple Mewman to pronounce, and so he allows her to call _ “my love”  _ nothing more, nothing less. He’s so simple, despite their secret sins. So good, so gentle, how could anyone in their right mind call him a monster?

She’s complex. An enigma within a puzzle that’s at the center of a maze, nothing about her will ever make sense and well, she’s fine with that. Neither monsters nor Mewmans trust her, and can she blame them?  She’s darkness, in it’s purest form. She is paradoxes and prophecies and myths, tangled up in a mess of magic.

Eclipsa Butterfly has never once, and never will, play by the rules.

Her husband, the king, he knows.

He has to.

He must wonder where she goes during her evening and morning strolls. He knows that she’s rubbed elbows with the monsters, in an attempt for peace, she claims.

For peace, or personal gain?

She has no time to inspect her moral compass.

Not when she’s leaning against the tall cobblestone wall, with a firm claw on the back of her neck and surprisingly soft lips against her own. 

Her gasp is lost in the harsh winter wind, she curves against him, he gives a toothy grin in their kiss.

“Clips,” His voice is low, rumbling, like an avalanche.

“I know, I know,” She titters out a laugh. “But I just can’t help myself,”

He kisses her softer this time, gentle, all the words he can’t say in a simple gesture, and she reaches up, lacing her fingers through his impossibly thick curls. She twists and pulls playfully, more silent pleading, and he can’t comply, no matter how much she wants him to. But he can stay a little longer, for love’s powerful pull is tugging on his heartstrings to the point they ache.

They were doomed from the start, forbidden to be together by whatever ancient rules have been set.

Keeping the one hand on the back of her neck, he uses his other to lift her up, his entire hand fitting perfectly around her tiny waist.

She’s higher up, at least five feet off the ground, against the roses — the roses he planted for her — rather than stone.

Another smitten sigh escapes Eclipsa and in these moments, she forgets that she’s a Queen.

She’s just a hopeless fool in love.

“You need to go home,” he says, almost cautiously.

“I will,” she assures.

One of her hands, stained with black magic from wrist to fingertip, reach out— it trembles for only a second before she places it over his heart. It doesn’t hum, it heavily thumps with every beat, and she can’t help but blush; her spade marks glowing brightly.

Her husband has never once given her this rush, this joy, this love— 

“My love,” Her sacred term of endearment for him slips past her lips over, and over, like a mindless babble as he kisses all over her face; forehead, cheek, jawline and even daring towards her neck.

She says it like a prayer, like a title, like he’s her possession and her world all at once.

One last heavy kiss is placed on her lips, and she’s too entranced to kiss back.

“ _ My _ love,”

He lowers back onto the ground, the ice and snow crunching beneath them, and the kiss feels like a warm hug, shouting their love to the world and a passionate embrace all at once. Eclipsa’s fingers dig into his burly, scaly arm, and just like every night, she doesn’t want to let go. But she has to. She knows that, and yet, she always somehow tries to stretch it out a little longer.

He steps back, claws lingering to caress her face before he pulls away.

“Same time tomorrow,” he says. “I promise,”

Eclipsa nods, no longer close to him and suddenly craving it all at once. But she can’t.

She’s greedy and selfish but not a fool.

Someday, she will have him, and they will have their own life, their own little world beyond these high walls and ridiculous rules.

“Goodnight, my love,” she whispers.

“Goodnight, Clips,” he replies, with that kind smile of his.

Their farewells and sweet nicknames for each other echo in the snowy forests as they turn and go down their own separate paths, towards the places they are forced to call home.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was made possible by commenters like you!
> 
> ~rea


End file.
